CHIARA
It was gloomy, everything.
My throat…so painful, my heart…so heavy, my head…aching, my mind…stuck, and my body…tired. Everything was fucked up.
I walked inside with the man following closely behind me. I turned to face him. He was just a step down. "You don't have to follow me," I uttered, my voice…raspy. He looked at me intently. "I know. But I want to." He replied. I turned ahead and kept going. I bit my lower lip hard and walked past the halls. His presence was like a warm coat behind me even though it would take a mountain to get those words past my mouth.
I turned the knob and walked inside my bedroom. I waited to see what he was up to. But he too walked in and shut the door behind us. I had just sat on the bed, and he came to kneel before me. Then, without a word, he lifted my feet. I held my breath. Carmelo untied the heels and then took them off in turns. He placed them neatly under the bedpost.
I pulled myself back up and lay down on the bed. He came over, picked up the bedsheet, and covered me. He gave me a small smile and was about to leave. I shouldn't be doing this! Chiara don't! Too late. I held his hand. His head whipped around and his gaze fell on our joined hands before they rested on me. "Stay," I uttered. He blinked in surprise. "Don't go," I added.
He watched me for a short while before taking my hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of my palm, and then stroked the place afterwards. "I'm not going anywhere, tesoro." He sat on the edge of the bed. But I had some other plans for today. Like I said, my mind was stuck. Why else could I possibly be doing this otherwise?
I moved back and lifted the covers aside for him. His eyes widened, "Are you sure about this?" he asked. I honestly didn't even know what I was doing. I nodded at him. He looked unsure for a moment and then he undid his shoe, took off his suit jacket next, before climbing on bed and under the covers with me, facing the ceilings.
I moved closer and lay my upper half on his, my head resting on his chest as thought it was our daily routine. His body stiffened for a second. It was a pure torture as I waited for him to react. Then I felt his hands wrapping around me. And then a kiss on my forehead followed. I shut my eyes, listening to the rhythm of our heartbeats, the rise and the fall of our joined chests.
"That…earlier—"
"Axiety attack." I cut him off. He stayed silent as if he was evaluating something. I mean he'd seen me having it a couple of times so I understood his curiosity. "What causes it?" He finally asked. I faced the window where silhouettes of fogged mountains formed. "Fear, anger, fire, shock, violence, memories, anything at this point." I let out a breath. I felt like I was peeling myself naked before him. But why did explaining my vulnerability to him felt right?
"And how do you feel in that state?" he asked, rubbing my back gently. He sounded neutral, unlike how others had pitied me. I hated when people pitied me because of my anxiety. I shut my eyes at the memories of what I was about to say, "Like I'm being haunted. It's like the feeling of being paralyzed. Numb. Out of breath. Dizziness. Feeling like throwing up or screaming a few times." I tooke a deep breath.
"When it hits, it hits hard. I feel like I'm being suffocated. Can't control my body from shaking or tears from flowing. Bad thoughts cloud my mind. Calming myself in that state is one of the greatest battles I'd ever had to fight in my life. All I can do is let it crush me and then wash away on its own. You know…" I blinked my tears, "I had to get a constant wolf-cut because when I'm having anxiety I can't stop knotting and cutting my hair?" I chuckled amidst the tears. "I like your hair. The cut looks good on you." He calmly said. I blinked, "Yeah?" I didn't know what to feel about his words. More tears flowed. "Yeah." he replied. We silently stayed like that for a while until I had to get out of my head.
"I envy your family." I uttered. "And why is that?" he asked, his hand still running circles on my back. I let out a deep breath, "I don't know, maybe it is just jealousy. Your family is a lot more different than mine after all." I said. "How so?" he asked. "It's just…different." So united. So blessed. So harmonious. So much unlike my fucked up one. "Okay," he said.
Another wave of silence passed. "Antonio isn't my real father." I blurted. "What? But your last name…" he asked. "He married my mother, that's why. My real father died when I was eight." He changed everything that had anything to do with our past. "I'm sorry about your father." He said. "That's okay." It wasn't okay! It would never be. My father was killed by Antonio and since then my life has become a living nightmare. I was forced to adapt to the other side of the coin before I even knew what menstrual pain was like. Tears overflowed my heated eyes again.
He tensed, "Oh, no. Are you crying again?" worry laced his tone. I buried my face further on his chest, my tears soaking his shirt. He patted my back, "It breaks my heart to hear you cry. It feels like I'm getting burnt alive. Stop, please." He pleaded, ripping my torn heart even further.
"Screw Antonio. Screw your family and mine. What do you think about starting our own family together, tesoro? Our family, our own values, our own rules. I'm thinking of ten little babies running around this place." I scoffed, "You're crazy." He chuckled, "How about eight then?" he asked. "Not a chance." I curtly replied. "Okay then, five?" Silence. "Come on, just three then?" I raised my hand and covered his mouth before he could continue with his madness. He laughed beneath it. His chest vibrated, as his hot breath and warm lips tingled my palm.
I retracted my hand after a while, "I meant it," he said the moment I did. "That is because you are out of your mind." I said. Who wanted ten children? I get a headache just by watching parents taking care of their single baby let alone ten of my own.
He chuckled and sighed. "I'll be going to work tomorrow," he stated. "To Milan?" I asked. "No, I'll be here in Portofino, at Strada Magica. I usually return in the evening but I'll see if I can return earlier than that." He said, his hand now carressing my hair.
I still can't get over the fact that he killed for me. "You don't have to." I said. I dread the idea of remaining in this big mansion all alone until evening but it was better here than out there where Antonio is after my head. "Alright then. Marina would be at your service. You can ask her to show you around the estate, if you want." He said. "Okay," That didn't sound like a bad plan to waste time with.
"What about lunch? You have to eat." he asked. I shook my head, "I want to rest now," I honestly had no appetite. "Okay then. Have all the rest you want, tesoro. I'll be here." He said, kissing my hair again while I shut my eyes. For once, in that moment, I felt what you could define as…peace?